Post 442
31/3. A sprintless Saturday (& dodging doggy disaster).
Bound for Boundary Rd on a black and barren Old Dookie Rd in the wee small hours of Saturday, a longer lap today to rid the repetition of rides of 38k all week. There were no calls for an early edition but a solitary suited, a satisfying speed soothing on the soul as I sliced into a southerly on Boundary Rd, Michelin music humming to River Rd. Without a car or a critter to cause concern, River and Mitchell passed without too much pain, the tailwind up Archer a treat to top off the toil. My 5:59 entry to the carpark was timing to a tee, berthed behind Shorty, Tina, CatCol, TatMat, Rocket, PistolPete, Determined Dan, Boof, Wozza, TatPaul, Sean, TrekTrev and MyRideTrev.
Unhindered by headwinds, Rocket, Wozza, and PistolPete poured on the power to Mitchell Rd, the talk turning up with the worry of the wind now behind us (don't you just love the serenity minus The Godfather!) I levelled beside DeterminedDan at the front to River Rd's bridge, Shorty doing me the same honour to the dip. Fourteen made the perfect peloton, doing more than one or two turns gave a sense of achievement, free of that awkward reaction multiplication a big bunch brings too. A condensed collection of Cats were Dookie bound as we turned west toward town, a little southerly having no tax on our tempo. A sudden slow in Ford Rd when dogs ran in from left and right sent us spearing in all directions, Rocket going to the grass to avoid a canine catastrophe, others threading the needle of accident avoidance, hoping not to hear the sound of crashing carbon.
All emerged upright, heart rates settled and blessings were counted resuming toward Wanganui Rd, many sighing relief at the suggestion the sprint be struck from the agenda. Having oxygen to chat closing in on Mt.Wanganui was as rare as BeerMat in a bunch, the casual crank on the Boulevard to breakfast as uncommon as Boof in the caboose. A faction of walking wounded Couldabeens had seated at the Lemontree table, Bo and Temple accosting Kel, Bruce and Leah to the dark side of perambulation. Breakfast babble on titanium, unappreciated basic functions and music on vinyl kept conviviality cooking.
2/3 Daylight spendings.
A little light on the horizon lifted spirits, rostered to work on a public holiday wasn't going to stop an early lap (a change of clocks put daylight back into the ride menu) and it was my choice of circuits with most others opting for a later start.
I set a course for Cosgrove on the long 18k's of New Dookie Rd (if only to twist the structure of an average day), speed spirited for a Monday, or was the wind helping me outbound to hurt on the inbound? Little effort to ride north on Quarry Rd and not-so-tough west on Lemnos-Cosgrove kept up the confidence back to the Big Ring. Surprisingly, tempo to the Toaster remained unchanged, I'll need to get a bigger helmet if this keeps up! The car-free course on Old Dookie Rd was only blotted by bunnies, the sun hurdling the horizon helping to spot any wandering wildlife. Was that warmth on the back in Boundary Rd? Soak up that thin slice of nirvana Foss, it'll be short lived! Orchards sheltered me from the southerly as I cast long shadows into Channel Rd, the progress pacey as I hurried homeward to face the coalface, finding a copious Couldabeens crew just exiting town.
4/4 The pain is sustained and stays mainly on the train.
The Goat train of pain lured me back on Wednesday, Coggo, Tum, AvantiLeigh, Phil, Heady and Belly similarly sucked in for the speed and suffering. Heady led us out of town (is it written in his job description?), AvantiLeigh turning up the wick toward Dobson's estate. Phil dug deep driving to Central Ave where it was my shift to School Rd. (Foss felt fairly frisky....or was the orchard sheltering me from the southerly?) Tum, Belly and Coggo covered good ground in Boundary Rd, an overtaking truck turning on a tow to the fig farm.
With lots of enthusiasm (but evaporating energy) my second shift from the pub tried to make it to the Broken bridges, just able to catch the tail as Tum tore toward One Tree Dam (though his shifts had shortened since last Wednesday, Belly and Coggo the contenders for this weeks' white jersey) Heady seemed to be misfiring in River Rd, but he still made an appearance at the rushin' front (possibly his undoing?), AvantiLeigh and Phil are in good tune considering they're not-so-regular-riders. My third shift came up at River Rd's third k, heart-rate on an escalator to reach the bridge (then cursing my long turn as I tried to catch the last wheel of the passing file of Indians) Recovery took till Central Kialla and another turn seemed to arrive all too soon, the push from Archer Rd to the highway dropping Heady from the caboose. Thoughts of the tailwind treat in Raftery Rd kept the cadence cooking, a less action faction (Principal Skinner, Spiessy and a tailgater or two) giving us the bait to Galbraiths gate. Phil gave me the elbow just beyond Arcadia Downs but this old engine was purged of power the other side of Conrod's dip. Belly and Coggo fought out the line honours as all others fought for air in the lungs to the skinny bridge.
5/4 Nice Hare-do!
I was battling the defeatist headed to the Hares on Thursday morning, could I do a turn, could I keep up, would the wind blow me OTA? It was some consolation that BamBam, Grumpy, Softa, KillkennyPaul, BeerMat, Nick, WhisperingJack (need I go on?) are clearly wrestling with bigger demons!
Nev. Kel, Wozza, PistolPete, CatCol, Bruce and TrackStan turned up to the Thursday toil, the cooler months blending the 5:45 and 5:50 crews to combine (though the scales were tipped one way today!) Kel and I started the ball rolling to Kensington gardens, CatCol then partnering me to the truck route (reassuring to hear his gasps were louder than mine!) Two rows rotated east but Kel had chosen the caboose option by the cypress trees. I had a head full of determination but legs were near detonation at Channel Rd's end.
We'd closed in on Pickles who joined the trains' tail as we worked into a light south southwester on Boundary Rd. Bruce seemed to be in struggle street but ventured ahead anyway, CatCol calling it quits in River Rd's first k. ChrisA arrived from the west half way along, my third turn to the dip becoming my last to sit in the comfort of the caboose and watch the masters (Nev, PistolPete, Wozza and ChrisA) swap the suffering at the front. Bruce had resigned from duty and TrackStan took a break, we cranked through Central Kialla then west to the highway, Bruce summoning us onward as a puncture pickled his progress. Single file was the call as we crossed the highway, my short straw the job of gatekeeper as TrackStan resumed, steaming past a newbie (rugged up for the Antarctic and taking up a ton of tarmac) nearing Galbraiths gate. The speed got spicier at Arcadia Downs, I was wishing it would end (but hanging on for the average) knowing that at the end of Conrod's k there was the oxygen orgasm as a reward.
6/4 Friday's fortuity.
The cool (8 degrees) has quickly culled the crew, just nine lined up for Friday duty (Kenworth, Jen, SuperMario, Cate, TrekTrev, Pelly, Sean and Trav). Kenworth headed the charge south and it seemed he was the sole driver at the city limits, so I braved the front and it's light southwester to the roundabout with him. The early edition (Wozza, Bruce, NewAvantiJohn and PistolPete) had numbed numbers too, joining in for leg three to Mitchell.
Cool patches took some breaths away though there was everything from full winter kits down to bare arms and legs. Tommygun's distinctive gait appeared ahead in River Rd, the oncoming '51 bunch and us getting squeezed by an overtaking impatient imbecile in a car (all for the sake of waiting a second or two) Pelly skipped a position or three as I contended with Kenworth and Cate to the Broken bridges, then back into the tow for others to be taxed by turns. All the stars had aligned for me in Channel Rd as we headed to the Kinder, a speed steadily climbing, sitting 6th wheel and in Kenworth's copious draft put me in a perfect position for a placing, but Kenworth dived for cover in the left line at Hopeful corner. Sean and Jen powered to Prentice Rd as I was biding time behind, but the threat of an attack from the back got me into flat chat. Straight past and a peek back saw TrekTrev on the hunt, but I had a few lengths advantage to hold on for a rare win (with thanks for the absence of Boof, Rocket, The Godfather etc and Wozza, Bruce, Pistol, Pelly and co sitting it out in the rear stalls)
Week 14 252km YTD 4,118km
A little light on the horizon lifted spirits, rostered to work on a public holiday wasn't going to stop an early lap (a change of clocks put daylight back into the ride menu) and it was my choice of circuits with most others opting for a later start. 
We'd closed in on Pickles who joined the trains' tail as we worked into a light south southwester on Boundary Rd. Bruce seemed to be in struggle street but ventured ahead anyway, CatCol calling it quits in River Rd's first k. ChrisA arrived from the west half way along, my third turn to the dip becoming my last to sit in the comfort of the caboose and watch the masters (Nev, PistolPete, Wozza and ChrisA) swap the suffering at the front. Bruce had resigned from duty and TrackStan took a break, we cranked through Central Kialla then west to the highway, Bruce summoning us onward as a puncture pickled his progress. Single file was the call as we crossed the highway, my short straw the job of gatekeeper as TrackStan resumed, steaming past a newbie (rugged up for the Antarctic and taking up a ton of tarmac) nearing Galbraiths gate. The speed got spicier at Arcadia Downs, I was wishing it would end (but hanging on for the average) knowing that at the end of Conrod's k there was the oxygen orgasm as a reward.
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